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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29606481">Hunnybee</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/risokura/pseuds/risokura'>risokura</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Beekeeping, F/F, Honey, Protective Siblings, Suburbia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:00:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,746</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29606481</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/risokura/pseuds/risokura</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The old adage goes—could you lend your neighbor a cup of sugar? But what if they had a penchant for honey, instead? Byleth/Edelgard. AU.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>137</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Becoming Ellie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well, I've been like ... struggling to find the inspiration to write anything all month. </p><p>But, this finally came to me after ... sitting down and actually focusing. Haaaaa. I should really finish things before I start writing new things. It's been a minute since I've dabbled in some Edeleth. So here we go :D.</p><p>As always, if you wanna read about my lamentations on always being too tired to write, find me on twitter: https://twitter.com/_risokura_</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It starts the day her little sister comes home from school.</p><p>She finds Edelgard sitting at the kitchen table, sifting through the usual assortment of bills. Lysithea rushes by in a flurry, nearly knocking into the table as she drops her book bag on the floor. Her older sister barely catches the mess of words that leave her mouth—<em>Have you met the new neighbor?</em></p><p>Edelgard furrows her eyebrows slightly as she removes her glasses from her face and watches Lysithea run over to the window above the sink. She looks over her shoulder to Edelgard and motions her over.  New <em>neighbor</em>? What in the world was Lysithea on about?</p><p>With a slightly irritated sigh, Edelgard pushes her seat back from the kitchen table and walks over to where Lysithea is currently bumbling about. She leans forward and pushes back the curtains framing the window so that she can peer outside. She can’t see much, as their fence obscures the view of the house on the other side. But there’s this commotion coming from beyond the window. Male voices, slips of blue that disappear between the chipped white panels of the fence. She pulls away, lets the drapes fall back into place and chances a better view from the front of the house.</p><p>Lysithea is already following after her, murmuring about what the new neighbors could possibly be like. Did they have kids her age that she could play with? Newlyweds? Possibly another old woman like kind old Mrs. Sothis who used to look after her when Edelgard was working a late shift, or toiling away at one of her many jobs for the evening?</p><p>Edelgard makes her way to one of the bay windows in the living room and stands on top of it, pushing another set of white, flowing curtains out of the way so she can get a better look at this purported <em>new neighbor </em>that her little sister just won’t shut up about.</p><p>The first thing she notices is that the for sale sign is gone—<em>sold, </em>bright, red and official—plastered across its front. Her eyes canvass the scene, notices a small group of men gathered out near the front of the house in the opening of the driveway. Boxes, trucks, large pieces of furniture suffocating in bubble wrap and plastic. Edelgard’s eyes narrow in latent interest and scrutiny as she catches sight of a large, gleaming, black Cadillac Escalade parked in the two-car garage. Who <em>was </em>this new neighbor of theirs?</p><p>She turns to look over her shoulder at Lysithea who balls her fists up in excitement and jumps up as Edelgard climbs down from the seat of the bay window. Well? Did she see anything? No, but—Edelgard shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest as she looks down at the child peering back up at her with wide and excited eyes. <em>Don’t worry about new neighbors right now. Don’t you have homework that you should be doing, young lady?</em></p><p>Lysithea’s expression drops and she kicks at the ground, a frown coming to her face as she prepares herself for another one of her older sister’s lectures. Yes, yes. She <em>knows</em>. Groaning and muttering under her breath, Lysithea retreats to the kitchen where she parks herself in a chair on the opposite side of the table where Edelgard had previously been sitting at.</p><p>Edelgard turns her attention back to the moving crew still making a commotion outside. How had she not even noticed this before? How long had that sign been like that? Never mind that for now. She had more important things to worry about.</p><p>She massages her temples and sighs as she makes her way back to the kitchen as well. With a quick glance at her little sister, Edelgard sits back down and resumes looking at the mountain of neatly arranged papers that she had been currently been sifting through before she was interrupted by Lysithea’s incessant chatter.</p><p>She pushes her glasses back on her face and picks up the paper she had previously been looking at. <em>Past due—</em>in bright bold red—stares right back up at her.</p><p>Almost as red as that <em>sold </em>on the sign that Edelgard had been looking at earlier.</p><p>—</p><p>To some people, twenty-four seemed like an age in which you should <em>almost </em>start to have your shit together.  Some people were married by then. Most others had jobs, laboring in the beginning parts of their future careers. Ah, the first experience of success—whatever the hell that was.</p><p>But, for Edelgard, twenty-four became the age in which she had to hang up her lofty dreams of being a painter in some obscure city on the west coast—to return to her sleepy little hamlet of birth on the east coast—and become a <em>parent</em>. Well, the legal term was <em>guardian</em>. But, as the days passed and the seasons stretched on, she was finding the former moniker to be more fitting above all else.</p><p>She was older than Lysithea by almost twenty years—a welcomed surprise that came later in her parent’s life. It would appear that they had finally gotten another chance to get things <em>right. </em>You know, not what her own childhood had been. The eviction letters that never stopped coming, moving around so much, running from the law, expecting her to act like the adult that they should have been.</p><p>Why was she expected to be the adult in this equation, when the atrocious sex education of the average American high school student had been bare bones at best? Just learn how to put this condom on a banana, kids… that’ll teach them, right?</p><p>Either way, Edelgard left behind the coldness of New England for sunnier ventures in the bohemian spaces of southern California to find herself. Her parents had a new baby now. One in which they could fix all of the failures they had incurred with her and she wasn’t trying to stick around to see the way that life <em>could </em>have turned out if only they had been a little older, a little <em>wiser, </em>prior to conceiving her.</p><p>She never went back, never called, never asked them for anything. Sometimes Edelgard would get curious, scroll through her barren social media to find pictures of their happy little family. Comments littered her mother’s page—<em>Oh, Lysithea is so cute. I can’t believe she’s walking now. Oh, she said her first words? Oh, but, where is your other daughter? What is she up to? What was her name again… </em></p><p>How quickly she had been forgotten.</p><p>A year passes. One year turned into two, turns into three, four, five…</p><p>And then a call—Dorothea—a trusted friend from back home. From the people that she did keep in contact with, she was one of the few. Her voice is strained on the phone, spirits low and unsure of herself. She calls her that nickname, <em>Edie…</em> and doesn’t say much else. <em>What</em>? What was wrong? Why did she sound so strange? What did she need to tell Edelgard?</p><p>It’s … Edelgard’s parents…</p><p>
  <em>What? What, Dorothea?</em>
</p><p>There’s been … an accident…</p><p><br/>
—</p><p>One redeye flight across the country, a ticket purchased by Hubert.</p><p>Edelgard arrives at the hospital and sits in-between Hubert and Dorothea, sipping coffee, trying to stay awake to process all the doctors are telling her. The combined feeling of loss and jet lag overwhelm her, fatigue her in ways she didn’t know were possible.</p><p>They tell her things and she just nods her head. Empty, on autopilot. The impact had shattered the front mirror, killed both her mother and father immediately. They don’t show her the bodies, just white sheets that cover vaguely human remains. She picks her head up when they finally <em>shut up </em>for two seconds and she asks—<em>What of my little sister?</em></p><p>Lysithea? …Well, she’s currently in surgery. And the doctors aren’t too sure about what will happen with her. Edelgard hears words like—<em>cardiac arrest, bringing her back twice, swelling in the brain, broken bones—</em>A coma, possibly? But they’re hopeful. She’s <em>young.</em> And kids tend to bounce back faster than adults do. Edelgard feels Dorothea squeezing her shoulder as she nods her head, absorbing the information, but not completely there in the moment. All they can really do is pray, right? As if Edelgard <em>believes </em>in that.</p><p>An hour passes, and then another. One of the doctor’s comes to get Edelgard—<em>she’s stable—</em>and they bring her to see the little girl that she left behind all those years ago. This little girl that was supposed to be her parent’s second chance. …And now… <em>now </em>what was she?</p><p>She sits by Lyisthea’s bed and leans down to kiss her little sister on the forehead. They tell her she’s in a medical induced coma to relieve some of the trauma that she just went through. Her little body looks so fragile connected to all of those tubes and wires. Edelgard asks to be alone as she presses her face into her sister’s hair, breathes in her scent—<em>innocent—</em>and wonders, why did she have to go through something like this?</p><p>The doctors ask Edelgard about family, people that could possibly take in her little sister—<em>if she survives this—</em>and she shakes her head. They <em>have </em>no other family. She’s never known her other family. Her parents ran away from home when she was just a child, or were they kicked out? She doesn’t remember, doesn’t know the truth. They lied a lot in those days didn’t they?</p><p>She remembers asking about grandparents—other kids at school had those and she heard they were a lot of fun. In a memory, her mother stands in the kitchen, scavenging barren cabinets for something to eat, a half-smoked cigarette in her hand. She taps ash into the sink and laughs gently—<em>Edelgard, you don't have those. They don’t exist. </em>And why not? <em>Because… they just don’t for you, honey bee.</em></p><p>Edelgard assumes there’s something else lingering there that her mother won’t talk about. Phone calls through the years, her mother sobbing to her father about something and him getting angry and smacking walls about <em>that bastard</em>. Edelgard chances asking her father the same question during a drive further north, as they search of a new place to live. Police sirens wailing in the distance, he stiffens up, goes quiet. Her mother looks at her, a stare subduing Edelgard into silence. Nothing else is said about the matter.</p><p>A return to the present, the doctor is nodding his head in understanding. He clears his throat, looks the twenty-four year old up and down and tilts his head to the side. Then… that meant Edelgard would be assuming the role of legal guardian, would she not?</p><p>She glances at Lysithea’s body in that bed, feels her future slip out from under her feet. All for the sake of… all for the sake <em>of…</em></p><p>That small, innocent child… her <em>sister</em>.</p><p>…She guesses she will.</p><p>—</p><p>She flies back to California with Dorothea. Hubert will keep an eye on things while she’s wrapping up her loose ends on the other side of the country.</p><p>Edelgard doesn’t have much to her name out here anyway. Paintings that never sold, water colors that have long gone dry. She had tried, hadn’t she? Toiled away at flea markets, tried to sell her wares at street fairs. Gotten involved with the local community and participated in a few shitty art shows, but it never really amounted to much. Who was to really blame for her failure? Her parents? Was it her own fault? Her lack of drive? Focus?</p><p>She was always taught to run away from things when it got rough… maybe that extended to her art as well. It was almost as if she were expecting some wealthy benefactor to just drop from the sky and say—<em>Oh, these are marvelous. I would be so glad to sponsor you. </em>And then, like <em>magic</em>, she would rise above her peers and regale them with stories about how she had just been so damn <em>lucky </em>to end up where she was. But, things never happen like that in real life, do they?</p><p>Instead, she had wasted her time in this sunny paradise. Sometimes painting and creating, but mostly, just staring at the endless cloudless sky that stretched on for miles beyond the beach. Her usual fling, some other aimless and directionless girl, lying on her side and grinning at Edelgard from behind a haze of smoke. She would kiss her, melting together, two bodies in harmonization. Why were they so worried about where they were going in life? They were <em>young</em>. They had so much time to worry about stupid shit that didn’t matter right now. Burning out and talking about all of the plans they had for the future seemed much more productive than actually <em>doing </em>it.</p><p>As Edelgard takes one last look at her empty room, a room in a house full of other dreamers and slackers just waiting for that <em>big </em>break, she laughs to herself.</p><p>How stupid she had been.</p><p>—</p><p>Lysithea comes back to life two weeks later.</p><p>She’s teary eyed when she doesn’t recognize the strange lady staring down at her next to her bedside. She wants her mom… everything hurts and she just wants <em>mommy. </em>This woman… she <em>looks</em> like her mother … but her eyes are different. She has their father’s eyes. Her forehead creases and she shakes her head in confusion. Where are they? Who is this <em>woman</em>? Where are her <em>parents</em>? Where’s <em>mommy? I want my mommy.</em></p><p>Edelgard doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what to say. How was she supposed to tell a five-year-old child that her parents were dead and that her estranged older sister was now here to take care of her?</p><p>She consults with the doctors and they recommend some type of therapy for Lysithea. So much trauma for someone so young. It would help her to adjust, they assure her. The body would heal on its on, but the mind… <em>well</em>, that was a little more complicated.</p><p>She stays by her little sister’s side through it all. Through all the crying, the tantrums, and the screaming at Edelgard to just <em>go </em>away. All Lysithea wants is for her parents to come back. She doesn’t want some older sister, someone she <em>barely </em>knows, to come take care of her now. During these tantrums, Edelgard calls for a nurse to come take over. She relinquishes herself to standing behind the hospital and smokes a cigarette more so to assuage her stress than out of necessity. What <em>more</em> can she do?</p><p>—</p><p>Edelgard finds that her parent’s house is foreign to her.</p><p>They bought this place after she turned eighteen. And she had barely spent any time in it before making her way out of the door and seeking her own path in life. But now, as she stands in the threshold and listens to the eerie silence that falls over the place, she knows that she must <em>make </em>it her home now.</p><p>The life insurance policy doesn’t stay around for long. Her sister’s hospital bills are expensive, there’s a mortgage to pay… and it looks like her parent’s had been <em>behind </em>on some things in her absence. She supposes, even with all of the maturity they seemed to gain too late in life, some things never change.</p><p>She starts looking for work. Picks up a job as a barista in the morning, works in an art store on the weekends, leaves the evenings open so that she can spend time with Lysithea. Lysithea still disregards her mostly on the days when she misses her parents the most, stays largely silent on the others when physical therapy leaves her too exhausted to speak.</p><p>Regardless, Edelgard stays by her side through all of it. Sometimes she brings Lysithea small gifts. A teddy bear that she used to be fond of when <em>she </em>was little. Chocolates that Edelgard slips past the nurses and doctors when they’re not looking. A wink and a smile as Lysithea stares at her older sister wide eyed and confused—<em>Will I get in trouble for having this</em>? Edelgard’s smile grows warmer—<em>Not if you don’t tell on me. </em>As her little sister squeezes Edelgard’s childhood bear closer to her side and quickly shoves the chocolate in her mouth, Edelgard wonders if the sweet tooth she’s developed over her lifetime is hereditary in any way?</p><p>It takes two months, but at the first sight of green leaves, the petals of flowers blooming and unfurling on trees, the doctor’s finally discharge Lysithea from the hospital. Edelgard takes her home and Lysithea is quiet as she walks through the front door of the house. She’s kept it mostly the same for her little sister’s sake. The therapist mentioned something about keeping Lysithea’s surroundings the same in an attempt to keep something familiar, even when everything around her wouldn’t stop changing.</p><p>Lysithea draws close to her older sister, grabs for her hand and buries her face in the fabric of Edelgard’s dusty red sweater. Is … is the little girl <em>crying</em>? What… what does she need? Edelgard looks around the room and isn’t entirely sure what she should do. She kneels down beside Lysithea so that the two of them are eye level and watches the child pull away from her. A second later, she’s throwing her free arm around Edelgard’s shoulders—her other still in a sling—and starts sobbing into her older sister’s neck.</p><p>
  <em>Please, don’t leave me, too.</em>
</p><p>Edelgard’s heart aches as the small arm tightens around her neck. With resolve, Edelgard picks her up in her arms, one hand planted on her little sister’s head and softly murmuring.</p><p>S<em>hhh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.</em></p><p>—</p><p>It’s been four years since then.</p><p>And in those years, Edelgard has found herself growing up faster than she ever had too when she was younger. She thought she had this figured out. She <em>thought </em>she knew what a child needed. But when you were dealing with one so enmeshed in the fragility of grief, trying to find the balance between the aftermath of death and moving on, things were never easy.</p><p>She tries to find her own form of balance as the years pass. Working to support the two of them, showing up as the older sister—<em>guardian—</em>of the little girl whose parents died in that tragic wreckage. She’s thankful for the help she gets along the way. The whimsical old lady that lives next-door—Sothis—who looks after Lysithea during Edelgard’s midnight shifts at the grocery store in town. A third job that she picked up when she had to shift things around to accommodate an elementary school student’s schedule. </p><p>Or Dorothea and Hubert for that matter—<em>Aunt Thea </em>and <em>Uncle Hubie—</em>as Lysithea so affectionately calls them. Edelgard knows they should be charging her for the mental torture alone that caring for a small child incurs. But, there they are. Always ready to lend her a hand when this shift runs too late, or she needs to make up her hours somewhere so she doesn’t fall short on some payment for some bill <em>again</em>.</p><p>Regardless, she still tries to find time for her little sister. Staying up late to read to her at night when she has the chance. Playing dress up in their mother’s old clothing, tea parties in Lysithea’s bedroom on Saturday mornings. A child’s laughter, the smile of gratitude—it’s enough to assuage the fatigue that settles into Edelgard’s body and mind on a near permanent basis.</p><p>However, things are always in state of constant flux. Lysithea’s teachers call Edelgard into school one day for a meeting of some sort. They need to discuss things about her little sister’s progression… something about her not excelling at the same rate of her peers. On the drive home, Lysithea looks up at Edelgard and frowns—<em>Ellie, am… am I stupid? </em></p><p>Edelgard’s heart clenches in her chest—almost in the same way as it did as the two of them stood alone in the doorway of their home, with Lysithea clutching on to Edelgard for dear life. Her hands tighten on the steering wheel of her father’s old pickup truck and Edelgard shakes her head. No. And don’t you <em>ever </em>think that. Lysithea looks down at her small hands and folds them in her lap. <em>But… </em></p><p>They roll to a red light and Edelgard looks down at the small child. She places a hand on top of Lysithea’s head, heavy and warm. You are <em>special</em>. You are <em>wonderful</em>. You are <em>loved</em>. She’s tried her damn hardest to let her little sister know all of these things and more. Why, didn’t Lysithea know she had <em>super </em>powers by now? Her little sister perks up at these words and her eyes grow wide. She <em>did</em>?</p><p>Edelgard nods her head slowly and proceeds on. Of <em>course</em> she did. She survived that crash that took their parents… didn’t she? Came back stronger than ever, too. Lysithea seems to be drinking in her words, murmuring to herself—<em>I have super powers?—</em>as she looks at her hands in wonder. Edelgard’s comforting words almost work, but then Lysithea decides to ask her the million-dollar question.</p><p>
  <em>But, Ellie… if I have super powers. Why … why couldn’t I save mom and dad, too?</em>
</p><p>Edelgard mentally curses herself for being so stupid and shakes her head. Recovering her wits she turns to Lysithea and tells her.</p><p>
  <em>Because, Lysithea … they gave their powers to you… to protect you instead. </em>
</p><p>—</p><p>Old lady Sothis passes away in the winter and Edelgard is cursing mentally about what she’s going to do. Dorothea can’t look after Lysithea when she comes home from school, Hubert keeps odd hours at best, after school is too expensive, and Edelgard can’t keep asking for time extensions or days off at work. Sure, Edelgard’s reliable when she needs to be, but time is <em>money</em>. And she’s sure her manager can hire a less bothersome employee if he really needs to.</p><p>Edelgard decides that she’ll have to cut her hours, switch some things around. She needs someone to be there when Lysithea comes home in the afternoon. Someone to help her with the homework she keeps struggling through, or when she’s hungry in the afternoon and needs a snack to power through until dinner. Sure, her sister is nine… garnering some form of independence. But she’s still a child. She can’t <em>leave </em>a child alone.</p><p>Loss of income means that things don’t get paid and Edelgard is finding it harder to stay out of the red as time passes on. The lights go off one day, water another month, heat in the dead of winter. With the passing of each month, Edelgard has to weigh the pros and cons of what bills she’ll let slip <em>this </em>time.</p><p>One night, as the beginnings of New England summer come to pull at the heels of spring, Lysithea questions Edelgard about <em>why </em>they have to eat dinner by candlelight while all the other houses on the block seem to have their lights on. Edelgard is finding it harder and harder to come up with believable lies. Her sister isn’t an idiot, she knows this.</p><p>Edelgard laments her inability to manage the stress of it all. College. Why didn’t she go to <em>college</em>? Would that have even helped her current predicament? Maybe? Four years for a degree that would land her in some stupid office somewhere. Typing away under the hum of fluorescent lights in some stuffy cubicle, laughing like a fake idiot with her other fake colleagues by the water cooler.</p><p>Home by six, dinner, watching mindless garbage on TV. Shower, sleep. Wake up to do it all again at seven the next morning. Sure, it was boring, soulless work… but it was <em>stable. </em>Something that she desperately needed right now.</p><p>Edelgard considers trying to paint again. She could sell her paintings if she really needed the extra money, couldn’t she? People were always looking for new shit to slap up on their walls. Her stuff never really sold out in Cali… maybe she needed to paint something different. Something <em>better</em>.</p><p>Sometimes she just wants to sit in her backyard, wanting to ignore her responsibilities and just languish in the warmth of the late spring sun. But, another bill in her hand, red and glaring, overdue—Edelgard finds herself at an impasse. What else had happened? Broken down car, AC turned off because it was just too <em>damn </em>expensive, hadn’t eaten since dinner last night?</p><p>What if she couldn’t pull them out of this hole? She didn’t care if she went hungry. She was an adult, she could manage. Her little sister was more important. And the last thing she needed… was for that damn social worker coming around again and asking her how things <em>were</em>. If she was managing all right. The damn <em>state </em>wasn’t taking her little sister away from her.</p><p>She would never let things get that bad… but what could she <em>do</em>?</p><p>—</p><p>A sunny day, a rare day that she has off. A rare day to just <em>relax. </em></p><p>Edelgard is currently lounging around in the backyard under the shade of the awning while her sister runs around in the sun. She watches Lysithea in silence, catching the Frisbee she throws her way every now and then. Lysithea is still going on about that new <em>neighbor </em>of theirs. But there’s been no sign of them ever since the commotion from earlier on in the week. Edelgard doesn’t really care either way; her mind is on other things.</p><p>As she closes her eyes and falls back into her lamentations about her future and the supposed hopelessness of it all, she hears <em>buzzing </em>coming from somewhere. Edelgard opens her eyes—a <em>bee. </em>She swats at the aforementioned nuisance and flinches as something pricks her skin. The damn thing had stung her. She pales, oh, <em>fuck </em>her.</p><p>Edelgard… Edelgard was <em>allergic </em>to honeybees.</p><p>She gets out of her chair to glance around the yard and notices another one buzzing through the air. Silently she prays to herself that she’s still got an Epipen handy. The last thing she needed was another exorbitant hospital bill to add on top of all the financial strife she was currently suffering through.</p><p>As she gets to her feet, scratching at the spot on her arm, <em>that’s </em>when she notices the buzzing sound coming from the other side of the fence. A distinct accent breaks through the air.</p><p>“<em>Fuck!”</em></p><p>Lysithea perks up as she looks at her sister from the other side of the yard and points toward the fence, “<em>Ellie! </em>Did you hear that?” Completely ignoring the swearing.</p><p>Edelgard scratches at her arm a little more forcefully as she eyes <em>more </em>bees coming over into the yard, “Not now, Lysithea. One of those damn <em>bees </em>just stung me.”</p><p>“Oh, no.” Lysithea mutters, “That’s… not good. Is it?”</p><p>“No. It’s <em>not</em>.” Edelgard says as she wanders into the kitchen and makes her way toward the bathroom to check the medicine cabinet.</p><p>She rummages around in the drawers, turning over half opened packages of expired medicine and trying to find that <em>damn </em>pen. She finds it at the bottom of the drawer and checks the expiration date. <em>One year out of date. </em>As Edelgard jams the needle into her thigh and sinks to the floor of the bathroom, she winces. Fuck it; expired medicine was better than <em>any </em>medicine at this point. Edelgard chucks the tube into the trash and gets to her feet to head back into the backyard.</p><p>As she nears the doorway to the backyard again, she swallows thickly. She should… <em>really </em>get to a hospital or something. But, where is she going to go? <em>How </em>is she going to go? Can’t call a cab, too expensive. Perhaps… Dorothea could drive her. But time was of the essence… and she wasn’t sure how long that expired medicine was going to hold her over for.</p><p>Returning to the backyard, she notices her little sister pressing her face to the fence where all the bees are currently swarming. Her voice, loud and animated. Who in the world is she <em>talking </em>to?</p><p>“…I think one of your bees stung my sister! And that’s not good because Ellie’s really <em>really </em>allergic to bees and its kind of bad that that happened... and our car isn’t really working right now and Ellie should <em>probably </em>go to the hospital… so she’s … so she won’t get sick like I was once, and—”</p><p>Over the fence, that voice again.</p><p>“I’ll be right over, little miss. Just stay there and tell your sister to hold on.”</p><p>“Okay!” Lysithea answers excitedly just as she pulls away from the fence and turns her attention toward the house where she sees Edelgard bracing herself against the frame of the door, “Ellie! I talked to the new neighbor. Her name is Miss Byleth and she seems <em>really</em> nice! She said she’s going to take you to the hospital so you won’t get sick and stuff.”</p><p>Edelgard cradles her head and winces as she feels like she’s about to pass out, “You …<em>what</em>?”</p><p>Lysithea grabs at her hand and starts pulling her toward the front of the house. Edelgard stumbles forward, feeling like her legs are uneven weights that get heavier with every step that she takes. Lysithea is quick to grab Edelgard’s purse from the front of the house and look for her sister’s house keys, just as the doorbell rings.</p><p>Lysithea’s voice seems distant as she opens the front door and grabs at Edelgard’s hand again to push her outside. All Edelgard remembers before things start going black is <em>blue </em>beneath what she recognizes to be a beekeepers hat. Sheepish blue eyes and an apology that will have to wait when she regains consciousness again.</p><p>Warm hands catch her before she falls.</p><p>Damn, <em>honeybees</em>.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. One Angry Little Bee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Edelgard wakes up in the hospital feeling … swollen.</p><p>There’s a nurse at her side currently raising the bed into a slanted position. A smile on her face of reassurance—Edelgard is going to be <em>just </em>fine—but they want to keep her overnight just for observation. Looks like that expired medicine from the EpiPen somehow worked? Or maybe they had just gotten her to the hospital in enough time so that she hadn't <em>died</em>. Can't remember... just blue. Blue eyes and that damn <em>bee. </em></p><p>Beyond the closed door of the room she can hear a child’s voice—<em>When can we see, Ellie? I want to see my sister, Miss Byleth!—</em>and one that she doesn’t quite recognize. Something husky… with a slight <em>southern</em> twang? Odd. <em>Little miss, calm down now. Your sister is okay. Remember what the nice doctor said now? They’re just waiting for her to wake up. </em>The nurse’s smile widens as she stops fiddling around with the IV bag. Looks like Edelgard had some visitors that were <em>most </em>eager to see her.</p><p>As the nurse opens the door to the room, Lysithea comes flying in with little regard for who might be in her path. When she sees Edelgard awake in the bed, her face brightens and she eagerly throws two arms over the railing. Two jumps of excitement and she reaches for one of Edelgard’s hands that are folded over in her lap.</p><p>“<em>Ellie! </em>You’re awake!”</p><p>“Yes, I am.” Edelgard murmurs as she feels her little sister’s hand tighten over her own.</p><p>“I was so worried. But, Miss Byleth kept me company while we were waiting for you to wake up!” Lysithea turns her attention toward the woman standing by the door who’s currently speaking with the nurse. Lysithea points eagerly toward her as Edelgard’s forehead furrows in irritation, “She’s really nice. We ate some ice cream downstairs while the doctor was making you feel better. It wasn’t that good though…”</p><p>As if on cue, the aforementioned—<em>Miss Byleth—</em>turns her attention toward Edelgard and smiles softly. Edelgard’s eyes roam the length of her and that frown deepens. So <em>this </em>was the woman responsible for her current predicament.</p><p>“Sorry about the trouble… Edelgard, was it?” Byleth starts, “I’m Byleth. Byleth Eisner. Just moved in next door to you and your sister it seems…”</p><p>“She’s a <em>beekeeper</em>!” Lysithea excitedly interjects, “That’s why you got stung by one!”</p><p>“Yeah… been trying to get sh—“ She pauses as she looks at Lysithea’s bright eyes and laughs to her self, “—<em>stuff, </em>settled with the move and all. Seems my little honey making helpers have been a bit agitated being all cooped up as they are.”</p><p>“Yes. So much so that one <em>stung </em>me.” Edelgard replies.</p><p>“Well, I guess it’s a good thing now that I know one of my neighbor's is allergic to them." Byleth laughs, trying to be good natured about the whole thing, even though Edelgard looks like she wants to eat her alive. She clears her throat, “They said they’re gonna keep you overnight. Your little sister here tells me it’s just the two of you living over the fence. I don’t mind looking after the little—“</p><p>“Absolutely <em>not</em>.” Edelgard snaps as she begins scratching at one of the hives on her neck. She winces at the burning sensation from her fervent scratching and looks at Lysithea, “You brought my purse with you, didn’t you, Lysithea?”</p><p>Lysithea nods as she points over to the corner of the room where Edelgard’s personal effects lie, “Sure did!”</p><p>“Good. I want you to call Aunt Dorothea and ask her if you can stay the night with her while I’m here, okay? You remember how to do that, don’t you?”</p><p>“Yes. I can <em>do</em> it.” Lysithea leaves her sister alone in the bed as she scrambles her way over to the chair to start digging around in Edelgard’s purse for her cellphone.</p><p>Byleth crosses her arms over her chest as she chances walking over to Edelgard’s bedside, “Really. I don’t mind, Edelgard. It’s the least I could do.”</p><p>“Well, I <em>do</em>.” Edelgard seethes, as Byleth gets closer to her.</p><p>“At any rate…” Byleth puts her hands on her hips and the soft smile returns to her face, “…If it's worth anything, you can slap me with the bill when you’re ready to get out of here. ...It <em>is </em>kinda my fault after all.”</p><p>“How kind of you.” Edelgard rolls her eyes, as she looks at her little sister currently in animated conversation with Dorothea on the phone, “Well? Lysithea? Were you able to reach Dorothea?”</p><p>Lysithea turns around and walks back over to the hospital bed with Edelgard’s phone in hand, “She says she wants to talk to you.”</p><p>With a sigh, Edelgard reaches for the phone and presses it to her ear, “Doro—“</p><p>“You’re in the <em>hospital,</em> Edie? What the hell happened!? Lysithea was rambling about bees so much, that I couldn’t get a word out of her.”</p><p>Edelgard glances at Byleth who’s been pulled away by Lysithea, as she asks her more questions about <em>bees</em>, and why Miss Byleth’s hair is so <em>blue</em>, and why she sounds so funny when she <em>talks</em> and—ugh. Edelgard lowers her voice; “My next door neighbor is apparently a <em>beekeeper</em>. And one of her little pests <em>stung </em>me.”</p><p>“…A beekeeper.”</p><p>“Yes. A <em>beekeeper</em>.”</p><p>A snort from Dorothea, “Well, ain’t that some shit.”</p><p>“Yes.” Edelgard sighs, “…They want to keep me overnight just to be safe. Can you swing by at some time and come get Lysithea for the night? The new <em>neighbor </em>offered, but I’d sooner cut my head off.”</p><p>Dorothea giggles again, “Sure, sure. I’ll come on by and get her in about fifteen. Just sit tight, yeah?”</p><p>“Not like I can <em>go </em>anywhere, Dorothea.” Edelgard sighs again, “I thank you regardless.”</p><p>“Always there to help, Edie. Takes a village to raise a kid … or some shit like that.”</p><p>“You don’t know the <em>half </em>of it.”</p><p>—</p><p>After another round of apologies—and a tip of her <em>stupid </em>beekeeping hat—Byleth excuses herself and returns home for the evening. Lysithea’s mood takes a slight dip when the wonderful <em>Miss Byleth </em>disappears and Dorothea arrives to take her home with her for the night.</p><p>However, Lysithea’s complaining of having to leave Edelgard behind is soon assuaged by Dorothea’s promises of makeovers and pizza and all those little treats that <em>Ellie </em>keeps telling her she can’t have. Dorothea winks at Edelgard as her best friend just stares her down from the sheets of her hospital bed. Really, Lysithea had enough cavities as it is. Who was paying for those dentist appointments, Dorothea? …Not Edelgard, for one.</p><p>Edelgard is discharged the next morning—bright and sunny—and calls her boss to let her know that she won’t be able to make her shift at the coffee shop today due to … <em>bees</em>. Her boss isn’t too happy by the late call out—<em>you’re my best manager, Edelgard—</em>but tells her to get some rest. She can make up her hours somewhere else in the week.</p><p>Dorothea arrives in the evening with Lysithea and hangs around with Edelgard for a while—<em>look, I brought you dinner, Edie</em>. As she walks into the kitchen, she pretends that she doesn’t notice the pile of unopened envelopes on the table as she sets the plastic bag full of Chinese takeout down. She looks away just as Edelgard comes into the kitchen with Lysithea at her heels, yammering about how happy she is that she’s back home. Dorothea smiles at her—<em>lets eat. </em></p><p>At night, after Lysithea has been put to bed, Edelgard sits in the backyard with Dorothea—a bottle of white wine shared between the two of them. Edelgard lights a cigarette and blows warm smoke into the air. A heavy silence hangs between them as if Dorothea wants to ask questions, but Edelgard won’t give her the answers that she wants. <em>Is it that bad, Edie</em>?</p><p>No, it’s…</p><p><em>Don’t lie to me. I saw all those papers on the table. Do you need help? I can’t be here all the time, but I want to be there for you and Lysithea—<strong>you know that</strong>. </em>They’re like family, after all.</p><p>Edelgard shakes her head, takes another drag of her cancer stick and sighs.</p><p>
  <em>I can manage, Dorothea. </em>
</p><p>Dorothea leaves it at that, knowing that Edelgard’s pride will always be the death of her. She lights her own cigarette as she leans back into the plastic lawn chair and gazes up at the New England night sky.</p><p>—</p><p>Edelgard goes into the coffee shop before the sun is even up. She leaves written instructions for her sister—<em>Stay put. Uncle Hubie will be over to walk you to the bus stop for school. </em>She’s playing with fire by leaving Lysithea alone like this in the mornings, she <em>knows</em> this. But… what other choice does she have?</p><p>She arrives at the café and goes through the typical opening procedures. Sweep the floors, tally up the expenses from closing last night, and check the schedules for the next coming weeks. Edelgard brews herself a cup of iced coffee and yawns as her first customers of the day start to arrive. As they leave, a text from Hubert—<em>Saw Lysithea off to the bus. Let me know if you require anything else. </em></p><p>Well, that was <em>one </em>worry off of her mind. Oh, well. At least she could go home and sleep for a while after the morning rush was done. What did she have later today? Closing shift at … the art store, was it?</p><p>Bernadetta arrives as the sun begins to come up. Edelgard greets her with a tired smile as she’s putting the finishing touches on the latte art for her next patron’s coffee. Bernadetta <em>meeps</em> and utters out a timid—<em>Good… good morning, Edelgard. </em>…Edelgard would never understand it, but she somehow intimidated the girl for some reason. Then again, Edelgard intimidated a <em>lot </em>of people when she put her mind to it.</p><p>She leaves behind the coffee shop when Linhardt arrives near noon—but sighs when she feels the sun beating down on her pale skin and laments having to walk home. The truck would have to be fixed whether she liked it or not. Edelgard simply couldn’t keep up this lifestyle with Lysithea, work, and whatever godforsaken thing that was bound to go wrong in her life. How much would <em>this </em>repair cost? Four hundred? Five hundred? She swallows… a <em>thousand</em>? Oh, how she wishes she could <em>stop </em>thinking about money for just one moment of her life.</p><p>As Edelgard reaches her home after a forty-five minute walk from downtown, she feels a sense of dread come over her as she eyes the mailbox and sees something sticking out of it. Thick and white—another demon seeking to claim dominion over the tight straps of her wallet.</p><p>But, as she pulls the envelope out and reads the address on the front, she grins devilishly. One mischievous lavender eye turns to the fence, that <em>house </em>next door.</p><p>Perhaps, today won’t be so bad after all.</p><p>—</p><p>The hospital bill arrives.</p><p>Edelgard promptly walks across to Byleth’s side of the fence and shoves it inside of her mailbox. A pep—long forgotten—in her step.</p><p>At night, the doorbell rings. Lysithea looks up from her homework at Edelgard—doing something with lots of adult looking papers and a calculator—and looks behind her toward the front door. With a sigh, Edelgard gets to her feet and goes to see who could <em>possibly </em>be disturbing them at this hour.</p><p>A peek through the peephole—<em>Byleth</em>.</p><p>Edelgard’s anger surges briefly as she goes to open the door and see what their wonderful next-door neighbor could <em>possibly </em>want. As the porch light comes on, Byleth smiles at her, positively radiant in the face of Edelgard’s never-ending rage that always seems to be directed at her.</p><p>“Evening, Edelgard.”</p><p>“Byleth.” Edelgard deadpans, “To what do I owe this visit?”</p><p>“Ah, yeah. Saw the little surprise you left me in my mailbox.” Byleth chuckles, “Who knew the hospital could be <em>that </em>expensive, hm?”</p><p><em>Anyone without insurance does—</em>Is what Edelgard is thinking, but she doesn’t say. She shakes her head, “If I remember correctly, you said you would compensate me for damages. Didn’t you?”</p><p>“Suppose I did.” Byleth grins as she waves a hand dismissively, “Nothing for you to worry about. It’ll all be settled before one of my little furry critters wanders his way over and stings you again, yeah?”</p><p>Edelgard sighs, “Is that all?”</p><p>“Nah, I wanted to bring you a little something for the trouble.” Byleth holds up her other hand now—a mason jar, filled to the brim with some thick, amber substance. <em>Honey.</em> “It’s a little early, I think. But, one of my first batches of the season is done and I thought I could bring you some.”</p><p>“…You brought me honey.” Edelgard asks as she looks at the jar Byleth is holding out to her. Though it pains her to do so, she <em>can’t </em>be rude. “…Thank you.”</p><p>Lysithea—having heard Byleth’s voice—comes running into the living room now and pries her way into the space between Edelgard and the crack of the door. She looks up at Byleth, eyes shining as always whenever the kind beekeeper is around, “Miss Byleth! Oh, so its <em>you</em> who’s at our door so late at night! How are you? Are the bees still angry? They haven’t stung you, have they? None of them have stung Ellie either. She’s been okay since that hospital visit—“</p><p>“<em>Lysithea</em>.” Edelgard interjects in a slightly sharp tone and her little sister goes quiet at the sound of her voice, “Don’t you have homework that you need to finish?"</p><p>“Oh… <em>yeah</em>, but. Miss Byleth is here! I wanted to say hello.” Lysithea looks up at her, “That’s … the polite thing to do, right? You always tell me how important it is to be polite, so… that’s what I was doing.”</p><p>Byleth’s smile goes warm, “It sure is, little miss. But, doing your homework is <em>also </em>very important.”</p><p>“Okay!” Lysithea waves to Byleth as she turns around to head back into the house, “See you, Miss Byleth! I hope your bees are happy!”</p><p>Byleth chuckles as the little girl disappears from view and Edelgard closes the door slightly, “…She’s a little character, that one. Sweet kid. Just you raisin’ her?”</p><p>Edelgard narrows her eyes at Byleth trying to pry into her business, “<em>Yes</em>. Now if you would excuse me, I have to get back to helping her with her homework.”</p><p>Byleth holds up her hands and waves them, “Sorry, just… trying to get to know a neighbor is all.” She pockets her hands into the backs of her sweatpants and turns to make her way back down the walkway of Edelgard’s house; “I’ll leave you alone for the night then, Edelgard. Let me know if you need anything else, you hear?”</p><p><em>I’m sure I won’t—</em>Edelgard mutters under her breath as she closes the door behind her and sets the jar of honey on the entryway table, forgotten and unneeded.</p><p>—</p><p>Edelgard tries to work on the car on one of her days off.</p><p>She’s not a savant when it comes to matters of car repair. But over the years, she’s learned a thing or too. Sure, some things she had done were questionable in terms of safety. But, she hadn’t killed her and Lysithea yet, had she? Besides, why take it to the auto repair shop when you could try and go it alone? Oh. Because she had no <em>money</em>. That’s why.</p><p>As she turns the key in the ignition and the damn thing coughs and sputters back at her, Edelgard has decided she’s had enough for the day. She smacks the side of the truck and lets her head thunk against the mirror, heaving a heavy sigh. Looks like she would be walking to work again tomorrow… or maybe Dorothea could give her a ride again.</p><p>The next morning as she’s about to take Lysithea to the bus stop, she finds Byleth outside watering the lawn in a pair of black short <em>shorts </em>and crop top that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Out of the corner of her eye, Byleth catches Edelgard—that oh-so-adorable, <em>surly </em>neighbor of hers—making her way out of her own house on this beautiful morning to retrieve her mail. Byleth waves, good-natured as always and tells her—<em>Mornin’. </em></p><p>Edelgard frowns, stiffens slightly as a hint of that <em>voice</em> floats over from the other side of the fence. Her lips thin as she presses her mail to her chest and whips around to see Byleth standing there in the glint of bright, early summer sun, smiling. Always <em>smiling</em>.</p><p>She resists the urge to rolls her eyes as she mutters a curt—<em>Good morning, Byleth—</em>and tries to hurry back inside before she can say anything else. She’s so tired of this woman and her grand displays of indecency around the neighborhood.</p><p>Edelgard’s seen Byleth on her morning runs every now and then. Always flaunting off that <em>rock </em>hard stomach of hers, those strong arms and thighs, tanned by too many hours spent laboring in the sun. And with a <em>rack </em>like that? For Christ sakes, <em>put </em>some clothes on.</p><p>She barely gets to her door before, Byleth is calling out to her again—<em>Excuse me, Edelgard. A word, if you’d kindly indulge me? </em></p><p>What. <em>Now</em>.</p><p>Edelgard whips around to see Byleth sauntering across her lawn and over to Edelgard’s side of the fence with a bucket in her hand. She drops it down by her car and stops just short of her driveway, hands on her hips, and that <em>kind, </em>disarming smile on her face.</p><p>She glances toward the truck in Edelgard’s driveway and then back toward the fair-haired woman who never seems to return that sweetness. It's just always oozing off of Byleth like waves of sweet milk and honey. Byleth nods her head toward the truck, trying to keep the conversation light. Amicable. <em>Neighborly. </em></p><p>“Couldn’t help noticin’ you tinkering around with her the other day and getting frustrated with the mess. Something up? Engine trouble? Transmission not working right?” Byleth asks. Edelgard’s body language tells her she’s not entirely <em>keen </em>on talking with the overtly friendly southerner right now.</p><p>“No.” Edelgard replies, “It’s fine. It’s an old hunk of junk that needs to <em>go </em>anyway. It’s nothing I can’t take care of.”</p><p>“You sure?” Byleth asks, not getting the hint at <em>all</em> to just <em>go </em><strong>away </strong>already, “I’ve spent my time around … <em>junk </em>… before, and she seems pretty salvageable to me. Have you taken her in for a—“</p><p>“<em>Byleth</em>.” Edelgard finally snaps as she turns to look at the other woman with a sense of finality in her eyes, “…I said it’s <em>fine</em>. Now, if that will be all? I have things to do.”</p><p>Byleth grins, undeterred. She holds her hands up in mock surrender as she backs away to her side of the fence again, “Just trying to be neighborly, <em>Miss</em> Edelgard. Something people don’t seem too apt on being in these parts, hm?”</p><p>“And I <em>thank </em>you. Now if you would excuse me.” Edelgard manages, much to her chagrin. She turns away from Byleth and continues her way up the path to her front door again.</p><p>“You have a good day, now!” Byleth calls back cheerily.</p><p><em>You have a good day now</em>—Edelgard mimics her under her breath as she grasps her doorknob. How could one person be so nauseatingly … <em>nice</em>?</p><p>She glances over her shoulder one last time when she hears something wet hitting a hard surface and wishes she had just gone back inside the house when she signaled her departure earlier. Because then, she would have missed the slow rising of shorts over the cheeks of Byleth’s ass, her breasts pressing against the hood of the car as she leans over to start washing the hood.</p><p>Edelgard feels herself fall flush; cursing her brain mentally at the images that it starts conjuring up. She lets herself back inside with the slamming of her front door and chucks her mail onto the coffee table. She makes her way into the kitchen to get a glass of water. So <em>parched </em>all of sudden, wasn’t she?</p><p>Stupid <em>southerners. </em></p><p>—</p><p>
  <em>So, that’s the new neighbor, hm? </em>
</p><p>Hubert’s grin is positively demonic as he sips his glass of wine. He turns around to offer a hand to Edelgard so she can pull herself up onto the ledge. He chuckles at his observations—<em>she’s not very fond of curtains, is she? </em>Edelgard merely readjusts herself and eases up on her tippy toes, her nose wrinkling in disgust. Absolutely abhorrent.</p><p>Hubert is over for the night—just another day of watching Lysithea while Edelgard slaves away at her late shift at the grocery store. Upon returning home, Hubert had pushed a glass of wine into Edelgard’s hand and encouraged her to unwind. He would stay the night and look after Lysithea in the morning while Edelgard was at the coffee shop. And besides… he was intrigued by something. Who was this—<em>Miss Byleth the Beekeeper!—</em>that Lysithea wouldn’t stop yammering on about?</p><p>With a vague hint of disgust, Edelgard gestures toward the bay window in the living room and motions Hubert to follow her. He thinks she’s gone mad as she tells him to turn out all the lights and get on the bay window so she can show him who this <em>Byleth </em>woman is.</p><p>He steps up on the ledge first and then helps her up. As Hubert presses his face to the window, he starts to chortle and then gasps mockingly at her side—<em>Oh my. </em>Edelgard looks at him like he’s lost his mind, but then her face goes red, as she finally sees just what he’s looking at on the other side.</p><p>Byleth, of course.</p><p>Dressed in nothing but a crop top—<em>that does nothing to keep her tits contained. </em></p><p>Short ass shorts—<em>riding up over her hips, clenching tightly at her thighs.</em></p><p>Her abdomen exposed—<em>you would probably break your fist on those muscles.</em></p><p>Hair pulled up away from her face—<em>was that a tattoo covering her entire bicep?</em></p><p>Hands wrapped in bandages—<em>hitting that punching bag like she’s pounding away at—</em></p><p>“Edelgard, are you <em>drooling</em>?”</p><p>Edelgard blinks and shakes the absolute filth that somehow starts floating around in her mind, as she watches her next-door neighbor sweat and pant, slamming her fists over and <em>over</em> again into that punching bag of hers. She thinks something else might be panting… or sweating. And it just might be <em>her</em>.</p><p>“What the <em>hell</em> did you just say?”</p><p>Hubert turns his attention back to watching Byleth and he chuckles darkly, “I, myself, am a happy homosexual. And I know you are, too. And that sight before us isn’t fodder for any of <em>my </em>fantasies. But, perhaps, for you…”</p><p>“I <em>hate </em>her.” Edelgard seethes as she turns away from the window and crouches down to her knees so that she can hop off the ledge. She turns back to Hubert and expects him to do the same, but he lingers for a bit.</p><p>“...You know what they say about <em>southern hospitality, </em>Edelgard.” Another chuckle as he teases her.</p><p>“Hubert, you’re a fucking idiot.” Edelgard replies, tipping her wine glass back and emptying its contents, “Who even cares if she’s gay. I wouldn’t date her if she were the <em>last </em>gay woman on this planet.”</p><p>Hubert turns around and hops off the ledge as well. He takes another sip of his glass and nods back toward the bay window as Edelgard turns on one of the lamps in the living room, “My, those <em>muscles </em>though<em>, </em>Edelgard. You know what they say about hate sex, don’t you? So raw, so <em>passionate. </em>I'm pretty sure she could <em>show </em>you what type of raw strength she possesses if you gave her the chance.”</p><p>“Look, I know you’re a writer for a certain clientele that appreciates that filthy type of erotica. But, knock it off. Leave <em>my</em> love life out of it.”</p><p>“Or lack thereof.” Hubert comments as he tips his glass to his lips again. He lets out a dramatic sigh, “Perhaps I shall delve into the sapphic side of things. I feel… somewhat inspired by the precarious turn of events that has been your life as of late.”</p><p>“Nothing precarious about it.” Edelgard mumbles as she takes a seat on the couch and sets her glass on the coffee table, “At least she paid for the damn hospital visit.”</p><p>“To the amount of?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Some shit that I can’t afford.”</p><p>“And yet… <em>she</em> can.” Hubert sits down on the couch next to her, “What did you say she did again?”</p><p>“She’s a beekeeper.” Edelgard replies, “Even brought me some of her damn honey. Like I <em>wanted </em>it of all things.”</p><p>“Ah, so she’s giving you her <em>honey</em>, too.” Hubert chuckles, “Edelgard, this is selling itself and I haven’t even written anything yet. Oh, the profits… I wonder if I can top my last bestseller?”</p><p>“Hubert, I swear to God if you turn this into another one of your perverted novels, I will <em>smite </em>you.”</p><p>“Ah, yes. Speaking of profits.” He leans forward and reaches for his leather messenger bag sitting on the floor by the couch. Hubert produces a crisp, thick envelope and hands it over to Edelgard, “A gift from Dorothea and I. Think of it as … a birthday gift.”</p><p>“My birthday isn’t for another week…” Edelgard mumbles as she takes the envelope from him. She presses her hands down into the envelope, takes in the shape of it, and realizes what it is. The previous teasing and playful atmosphere from earlier descends into something slightly more melancholic as Edelgard finds herself at a loss for words, “Hubert, I can’t…”</p><p>“Take it.” Hubert says, not to be deterred. He finishes the rest of the wine in his glass and reaches for the bottle to pour himself another glass, “You need it. I know you’ve been having issues with the car lately and you can put it towards the maintenance costs. There's also a little something extra to tide you over for the next month or two. My last advance was <em>more </em>than enough.”</p><p>Edelgard looks at him, “I can’t keep having you guys bail me out like this. You two already do enough with looking after Lysithea as you do.”</p><p>“Edelgard, this is what friends <em>do.</em>” Hubert reminds her.</p><p>“…How much is even in here?” Edelgard asks as she sets the envelope down on the coffee table.</p><p>“I’ll let you find that out later on, since I <em>know </em>you won’t open that until I leave.”</p><p>“…I’ll pay you two back. I promise. I just need some time to figure things out and—“</p><p>“I won’t take it. Neither will Dorothea.” Hubert interrupts her, “Stop fighting us and just <em>take </em>the money, Edelgard.”</p><p>With reluctance, Edelgard picks up the envelope and fingers it again. “…Thank you.”</p><p>“There, that’s better.” Hubert takes a sip of his wine and reclines back into the sofa. They’re silent for a minute, then Hubert turns to her with his thoughts, "Say, Edelgard?"</p><p>"Yes, Hubert?"</p><p>“…Have you thought about painting again? To supplement your income at the very least? You must be fatigued running about town as you do.”</p><p>Edelgard shakes her head, “There’s no time.”</p><p>“To let your craft go to waste like that would be a shame.” Hubert chides, “…We will just have to make time for it then.”</p><p>“Sure…” Edelgard looks at the clock and then at Hubert. She doesn’t want to get into this right now. Always this talk of her returning to painting—she’s <em>not </em>even good. Why did he believe her to be? “…Anyway, I should get to bed. Early morning, you know. The usual.”</p><p>Hubert nods his head, “Go on. I’ll take care of cleaning up out here. You go get your beauty rest so you can wake up and be your <em>bright </em>and <em>cheerful </em>self for your customers in the morning.”</p><p>Edelgard rolls her eyes as she gets to her feet and starts making her way for the hallway. She pauses at the corner and turns to look over her shoulder at Hubert one more time, “…Thanks again, Hubert. …Good night, then.”</p><p>A soft smile crosses his features, “Good night, Edelgard.”</p>
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